Paranoia on a Platter
by Merks
Summary: His medicine only kept him sane as long as he took it, and the pill bottle often remained untouched. Instead, he dipped into the bottle of vodka and indulged, waiting until the day she returned to his front door. [Rated M for violence.]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Believe me, if I owned Naruto, my favorite characters wouldn't keep dying.

**I completely and totally forgot that after I put up the first chapter I tweaked the story. So yes, if you read anything about murder here, well, IGNORE THAT I GUESS. THE ENDING IS A SURPRISE. You'll find out if anyone dies or not by the end of it, now won't you? :3**

Sequel to Sweet Dish

A dimly lit room extends from his growing vision as his eyelids shift open, the entrails of sleep drudging away reluctantly. The TV sits as it had been when slumber claimed him, playing an endless infomercial pitching a 'superior kitchen set'. He stares at the screen for a moment before he remembers why he'd turned it on in the first place.

The knives…

As if on cue, he throws the pocket knife that he had dug into the plush of the easy chair he resides in at the wall, watching it wiggle as the plaster gave way beneath it, catching the knife and holding it stationary. He stares at it for the longest time, before he stands and wanders upstairs to shower.

His soap burns as it runs in his eyes, but he smiles against the pain, making no move to wipe them clean. A song starts deep at the back of his throat, gurgling to an abrupt halt seconds from his lips.

He falters for a moment, letting a sudden scream of frustration reach past his tongue and let loose on the air, sinking into the tub. His nails reach deep into his skin, drawing blood and watching it join the water on its journey down the drain.

He loves pain, he really does.

Dressing in a loose pair of pajama pants and a tank top, he meanders into his kitchen and grabs a cup of vodka.

The stronger the liquor, the weaker the delusions.

He likes vodka. Strong enough to dull his senses but still weak enough for his beloved fantasy to seep through.

His empty laugh again fills his house, and he returns to the television, muting it and watching a few minutes of an acne infomercial. No one cares about that.

He opens the bottle of pills next to the chair and pours the contents into his hand, looking them over like precious jewels before dropping them, one by one, back into the container.

He's mentally ill, and he revels in it.

He hears the sound of a knock at his door, and he sighs, shuffling in from his den.

Signs of his paranoia are scattered around the house, and his hand finds the hilt of the knife embedded into the wall by the front door.

Opening the door carefully, he's both horrified and pleased to see Sakura perched on his doorstep, looking like she'd rather bolt and never look back than finish whatever it is she came to do.

He knows that the instant she comes inside, his fantasies will start to come true.

She looks around with a soft sigh before fixing her gaze upon him. Her stomach is not swollen as he had expected it to be, but he can no longer recall time, so he's far from sure. "May I come in?" Her voice drags him back from his darkened thoughts.

He lets her in, leading her to the kitchen where the empty vodka bottle sits next to a meat cleaver that he's left sitting there for ages.

Looking around his house, she feels herself grow more and more worried. That feeling is only amplified when she hears Sasuke laugh and pull out a chair for her like a true gentleman. "Sit," he coos, pouring her a cup of coffee in the same mug she had used so long ago, washed only once to remove her taint and locked away.

Oh, how he hated her.

She's visibly shaking as he sets it before her, dropping in a few cubes of sugar and pouring in some silky cream. He then watches her intently, waiting for her to drink it.

Slowly, she raises the cup to her lips and takes an experimental sip. After she deems it safe to consume, she drinks it as fast as the scalding liquid allow.

Sasuke's grin deepens.

Let the games begin.

**Stay tuned!**  
The next chapter is where it gets violent.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry about the wait - I had so many problems making this work. But I have IDEAS now. And -gasp of shock- the ever-elusive free-time. Oh, and I kept accidentally switching from present to past tense. It's supposed to be present tense, but if it switches and I didn't catch or fix it, I'm sorry.**

**WARNING: Graphic. Oh so very graphic.**

Sakura's head lulls to the side, her eyelids sliding down and up slowly. He watches her in ecstatic silence, knowing that soon her judgment will be altered just enough for her to be a truly fine toy. He reaches across the table, gently stroking the skin of her hand.

She jerks back, widening her jade-green eyes as wide as she can, and she gasps. He stands with his sickening smirk on his face, sauntering confidently to the meat cleaver and running the pads of his fingers across the surface of the blade. She doesn't quite catch it, instead tapping the bottom of her cup in a vain attempt to lap up the last of the coffee. Such un-ladylike behavior, he thinks.

"So, Sakura-_chan_, how is the baby?" He gags, hating the feel of such pleasantries tap-dancing off his tongue.

She smiles pleasantly, taking the bait, and he's almost repulsed by how easy this is proving to be. "She's beautiful. We named her Rose, because she looked just like me, and he said that the pink hair was like the bud of the rose, the green eyes like the stem." Sasuke inwardly groans, cringing at the overwhelming fakeness of the story.

"That's nice." He lifts the blade, weighing it experimentally in his hands. "Do you enjoy cooking, Sakura-_chan_?"

She looks a bit confused at the strangeness of the question, but shrugs. "Sure, I suppose… Why?"

He wanders the length of the kitchen, gently running the sharp edge of the knife across his fingers, leaving small red lines. "Well, I have a - pig in the refrigerator that needs cleaning, and I just don't know where to start. I was wondering if you'd be able to help me…" He despises the lie, even as he gives voice to it, but he ignores the repulsion in his gut.

She smiles brightly. "Why _sure_, Sasuke-kun! What would you have done if I didn't stop by today?" She asks with what she thinks is a pleasant laugh, but to him it only sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

"Oh, I have no idea." He answers, leaning against the counter near the fridge as she stands, wiping her hands on the pleated length of her skirt. "Maybe a bit of…" he doesn't finish, as she's opened the fridge and marvels at the fact that there is no pig.

"Ah, Sasuke-kun, I thi-" Her voice squeaks to a stop as he moves to stand behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other hand holding the meat cleaver behind his back. "What are you doing?"

He smiles tensely, bringing the knife forward and carefully, enticingly dragging the dull side of the knife down her cheek. She stiffens against his chest as the cold metal sends shivers to and fro across her skin. "Sa-Sasuke-kun?"

"Hmm?" He mumbles, continuing to stroke the blade languidly along her neck. His breathing is hot, a sharp contrast to the cold of the blade. Sakura squirms uncomfortably.

"Ah, Sasuke-kun, that's not safe to- Ah!" He lets the knife drop to the floor and restrains her, now running his lips along the dip of her neck and across the skin of her shoulder. She tastes of something bitter.

"Oh, Sakura-_chan_, nothing I do is **safe**." His words are scathing, his eyes fiery pits of hatred. But she can't see, her eyes shut tight in fear as he draws skin into his mouth, nibbling lightly.

Sakura doesn't know what he's doing, but she feels repulsion bubble in her gut. There was something wrong with Sasuke. She just doesn't know what...

"Sasuke-kun, please, tell me what's wrong...?" she tries.

Sasuke chuckles, breathing against her neck. "Oh, Haruno-baka," his hands grip her hips and he roghly grinds into her. Sakura's gasp is startled, "there's nothing wrong."

Sakura doesn't believe him for a moment. "Sa-sasuke-kun, I'm married, I don't think that it's okay to be doing that, please stop."

Sasuke laughs at her again, still nibbling at her flesh. He bends and retrieves the knife, pinning her against the refrigerator. "Sakura, oh, Sakura..." he teases, turning her around so she faces him. He gently runs the blade across her cheek, and her terrified eyes meet his mirth-filled ones.

She blinks back the tears that suddenly threaten to fall and shudders as his hand - the one not holding the knife - slides under her shirt. "Sasuke-kun..." she whimpers, terror muting her voice.

He doesn't answer her, stroking her skin as his hand slides higher and higher. He'd never wanted sex with Sakura in the past. No, she'd never turned him on - but this was different. This wasn't the obnoxious girl with bubblegum hair who followed him around school.

This was the whimpering woman with rose-shaded hair whom didn't want him anymore.

His hand reaches her bra clasp and he sneers, flipping it open and scratching her with his jagged nails. She whimpers again, those beautiful tears that she's been holding back finally spilling onto her cheeks. He forces a knee between her legs and roughly pushes against her, holding her awkwardly in place as he drags her shirt over her head.

She fights with him for a minute until he lightly slices the blade into the flesh of her neck. The fight simply drains from her and she starts to sob lightly.

Sasuke is enjoying her torment, and he brings his head to her cheek, licking away her tears.

His knee is replaced by his hand and he shoves it into the waistband of her pants. She whimpers and starts to fight again.

Amazingly, much to her surprise, he lets her go. He takes three steps back and looks at her, as though contemplating something, then leaves the kitchen. He goes around the house, locking all the doors and closing all the windows and blinds. Sakura takes advantage of this and pulls her shirt back on, not caring that her bra remains on the floor of the kitchen. She runs to his front door and screams as he stops her, grabbing her from behind by the hair. "Ah, ah, ah, Sakura-chan." he purrs, dragging her up the stairs. "I'm not done with you yet."

Sakura cries out softly as he shoves her onto his bed and shuts his bedroom door behind him, swallowing thickly as she hears the lock click.

"Sakura-_chan,_" he purrs darkly, walking to the bed and pinning her down. "Ready for a game?"

**I know the chapter is short. They all will be. But I'll be writing them speedily to make up for it. =3**


	3. Chapter 3

**WARNING: M.A.T.U.R.E. And when I say that, I MEANMEANMEAN it. This chapter gave me many problems, but so many people were asking for more that I put it out, though you can probably expect a better, rewritten version to come.**

Sakura whimpers as Sasuke takes her shirt off for the second time, ruining any hopes of her putting it back on as she hears it rip. Sobs caught in her throat, she merely turns her head and squirms when she feels his lips trailing over her collar bone.

This displeases the Uchiha - he wants to hear her scream and beg him to stop. He wants to hear her cry out in shame and fear. So he grabs the knife off the bedside table and runs the blade across the flat expanse of her stomach. "Oh, Sakura, Sakura, Sakura..." he murmurs against her skin, "my blade wants a taste too." he slices into her, eliciting a shriek as her blood bubbles out of the cut.

She's whimpering now, and he bends his head to lap at the cut. "Ah, Sakura. Such tasty blood." He sets the knife off to the side again as his lips trail back up. Sakura is pleading in her head for him to stop, and another sob stops in her throat as he takes a nipple into his mouth. He doesn't like this, her silence, and he bites down cruelly.

Oh, how he smiles as Sakura screams.

She whimpers still as he laps at the rose tip of her creamy breasts, tongue laving over whatever skin it can reach. She feels sick and tries to push him away, but he sinks his nails deeply into her cut and she cries out again.

He begins to lick down her abdomen, smearing her blood. She's whimpering, and he's contented to just hear her quiet fear for now. The whimpers grow in volume as he unbuttons her jeans and begins to drag them down her thighs.

Sasuke almost growls in joy as her pants join her shirt on the floor. As his hands explore her legs and ass, he brings his mouth back up and sucks greedily at her wound, drinking her blood in a fashion that briefly reminds Sakura of a feeding baby. Her baby...

She struggles anew, ignoring the pain in her stomach. Sasuke makes a face like he's angry, but actually, he's rather enjoying himself. He stretches an arm across her neck, holding her down, and places a soft kiss on her forehead, gently stroking her through her underwear. "Shh, Sakura-chan."

She whimpers softly, struggling now to breathe as he applies pressure to her windpipe, still stroking her. Her body disobeys her, gradually becoming wet and accepting.

Sasuke feels this and slips his fingers around her underwear, laughing softly at the strangled cry of displeasure, and plunges them deep into her. "Ah, Sakura, so warm." he mumbles, pulling his hand back and licking at his fingers.

Sakura's eyes widen and she crinkles her nose, disgusted. Sasuke notices this, too, and sticks his fingers back inside her for a moment before bringing them to her mouth. "Taste." he demands.

She purses her lips and shakes her head. Sasuke's face darkens, and he demands again, "Taste."

Still, Sakura refuses. Sasuke really doesn't like that, and he grabs for the knife again. Sakura opens her mouth to protest, and he takes the moment to force his fingers into her mouth.

She gags around her essence and tries to use her tongue to push his fingers from her mouth. "Oi, Sakura, don't you like..?" he mumbles, taking his fingers and shoving them into her again. "I think you taste so wonderful."

Sakura is crying now, soft sobs heaving past her lips. Sasuke likes this very much, but likes it better when she screams.

So he curls his fingers as he thrusts them into her, jagged nails scratching with every movement. Sakura cries out in pain and fear, tightening her legs, trying to make it harder for him to move his hand. Sasuke simply forces them back open and kneels between them, giving her no option. Eventually he tires of the hand play and bends his head, very gently licking at the outside of her pussy lips. Sakura whimpers and tries again to fight.

Sasuke inhales as he pushes his fingers into the wound on her stomach, stopping her struggling. "You smell good too, Sakura-chan."

Sakura is sobbing louder now, as his tongue pushes into her, his nose bumping uncomfortably against her clit. He's gently resting his hands on the insides of her thighs, and she tightens her legs again, trying to force him away. He doesn't like this, either, and pushes her legs open roughly. He brings his head up far enough to give her a warning look and then returns to his previous task.

But instead of licking gently as he had been, he bites her clit as hard as he can, drawing blood and screams alike. He smiles, pleased with himself.

"Sakura, such pretty tears." he mumbled as he rubs his clothed chest across hers, smearing her blood on his shirt. He licks at the tears on her cheeks, almost gently, before moving to the wound from his knife. "Such pretty blood. Such pretty pain."

He takes off his shirt while still sitting on her legs, and tears it into several strips. He uses those strips to tie her wrists to the posts of his bed, and smiles at his handiwork. Though her strength is hardly a match for his, he decides that he can never be too careful. Confident that she won't be able to escape, he stands next to the bed and takes off the rest of his clothes.

Sakura is crying so hard the images are blurred, and she struggles vainly to free herself. Her sobs echo through the room, and Sasuke likes this.

He likes this very much.

He returns to the bed and kneels between her legs, using the knife to take her underwear off with ease. Sakura starts sobbing harder as he spreads her legs and takes himself into his hand. "Scream for me, ne?" Sasuke asks as he shoves himself roughly into her.

Sakura obliges unwillingly, screaming as he laughs and moans, thrusting into her without mercy.

Sasukes mind is a jumble of thoughts as he loses himself in the sensations, groaning in bliss everytime she screams. The combination of the heat surrounding his cock and the sobs and screams coming from Sakuras lips send him over the edge amazingly quickly, and he collapses unkindly onto her.

After giving himself a moment to catch his breath, he stands and goes into the bathroom to shower and clean himself off.

Sakura, unable to move even if she wanted to, simply lays still and cries, knowing now that Sasuke is no longer the Sasuke-kun she'd known before.

Knowing that this Sasuke is mentally ill and completely delusional.

And knowing, deep in her heart, that he's never going to allow her to leave alive.

**Ew. So badly written. Anyshoes,  
Next chapter might be a little while. It's only about a fourth done.  
I'll be a speedy little typer, I promise.**


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